


Little things

by edenforest



Series: I feel you in my dreams [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:59:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenforest/pseuds/edenforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want to go to the small apartment he occupied when he was in London. There wasn’t anything wrong with the place; he just didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. He would much rather sit with her. And as long as Gaby didn’t order him to leave he could do that. She didn’t say anything and Illya didn’t look at her, but she was so very intensely there; he could smell her, her very familiar scent, he hear her breath and the quiet noises the leather seat was making when she moved her muscles slightly. All that was enough to make Illya feel better. It only took Gaby being there; she didn’t need to do anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little things

Gaby liked airports. But more the leaving and returning herself, she liked to drive other people there. Illya and Napoleon only had to mention that they would need a ride and she was ready to take them.

For a long time she had no one in her life she could care about. Now she had again. And she liked to drop them at the airport. She had drinks with Napoleon at the airport bar and they viewed the passing stewardesses and evaluated their willingness to have sex during the work hours. She waved the last wave when Illya turned to look at her one more time over his shoulder. And better than that was to pick them up there. She was the one who got to see them before anybody else, find their faces in the crowd, and see them noticing her. Gaby got to be the first one to hear all the things they had done since they had last seen each other. She liked to be the first to know something, it made her feel important.

And sometimes if they weren’t that happy, Gaby was still there, listening or just being. Napoleon liked to exaggerate and colored his worries even more gruesome and depressing until they were ridiculous and became funny. Illya rarely told about what he had been up to, but he did answer questions. And every time they met at the airport he was as uncomfortable as the first time when Gaby waved her hand and he didn’t know was it stupid to wave back. So every time his wave was quick and sort of unfinished and it made Gaby smile.

But today there was no wave, not even an uncomfortable and small one. It made Gaby frown. “Was your flight pleasant?” she still asked, as usual. She always skipped the “hello” and “hi”. She had already waved.

“Yes,” Illya said. He glanced at Gaby quickly but didn’t stare at her.

“Good,” Gaby nodded and started walking. Illya caught her in one step. “How was Moscow?” she asked inquisitively. “Or were you in Moscow? Can you even tell?”

”Moscow,” Illya confirmed stiffly.

Gaby nodded. “And how was it?” She still wanted to know.

“As usual,” Illya responded.

Gaby had no idea what that meant. She should’ve expected that answer because it was Illya’s answer every time. But it didn’t tell her anything. Illya hadn’t ever told how things had gone, so she didn’t know what “as usual” was. Was it good, bad, boring, dangerous? She didn’t know.

They got to the car and Gaby opened the trunk for Illya’s bag. Then they climbed in. Gaby started the engine and drove them out of the parking lot.

“Was the weather at least nice?” she asked, a faint grin on her lips.

“Yes,” Illya said tightly, and looked out of the windscreen.

“It’s been nice weather here too,” Gaby told him. Apparently this was what they would talk about: the weather. “Almost sunny.” she glanced at Illya, who looked like he didn’t really care about the weather in London. She wasn’t sure was he even listening. ”It rained only once. But there was a hail shower at night. The ice hit cars so loudly that it woke me up. I took the living room rug outside to cover my car so the paint didn’t get damaged,” she continued.

Illya turned to look at her. “Really?” he asked.

“No,” Gaby confessed and looked at him. “I was checking to see if you were you listening.” She grinned and waited Illya to already relax a little from his rigidness; she needed only a little twitch on the corners of his mouth. But he turned his head emotionlessly away. Gaby frowned. Well, if Illya would rather sit in silence they could do that. Gaby concentrated on the road and stopped talking.

Illya didn’t mind Gaby’s chatting. He would’ve preferred her to continue. It was so easy and wonderfully light. Things hadn’t gone well in Moscow. Not the way he would’ve liked or what would’ve been right. It bothered him and weighed on his mind. This was first time in days that Illya felt some sort of peace. Gaby’s chatting, her little grin when she told silly lies, and her scent in the car. Illya wanted to suggest that they would continue driving as long as there was road ahead. That way he didn’t have to get out of the car and away from Gaby’s calming presence. She could drive to Dover and they could take the ferry and drive across all of Europe. Maybe next time he should ask if Gaby could pick him up at the Sheremetyevo instead of Heathrow and drive all the way back to London from Moscow.

Gaby pulled the car to the curb in front of a very common looking building. “I hope you enjoyed this silent journey.” She smirked a little and tried to get something out of Illya. There was still nothing.

Nothing was also how Illya continued. He didn’t step out of the car; there wasn’t even a little hint that he was ever going to do that. He sat and stared at his hands. Finally Gaby killed the engine. She wasn’t going to tell a grown man who had two working eyes that they had arrived. Gaby was sure Illya could see that. Why he didn’t react was a mystery to her. But he was being weird as it was, so Gaby decided to wait and see was he ever going to react.

Illya didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want to go to the small apartment he occupied when he was in London. There wasn’t anything wrong with the place; he just didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. He would much rather sit with her. And as long as Gaby didn’t order him to leave he could do that. She didn’t say anything and Illya didn’t look at her, but she was so very intensely there; he could smell her, her very familiar scent, he hear her breath and the quiet noises the leather seat was making when she moved her muscles slightly. All that was enough to make Illya feel better. It only took Gaby being there; she didn’t need to do anything.

Gaby observed Illya uneasily, her eyes narrowed and mouth tight. Illya looked so tired and paler than normal. He looked worried. More worried than usual. They sat in the car in complete silence over fifteen minutes before Gaby spoke. “Are you hungry?” she asked practically.

“No,” Illya said slowly after thinking about it.

“When was the last time you ate?” Gaby wanted to know.

“Breakfast,” Illya replied.

Gaby looked her watch even if she knew that they were long in the day; it was already dusk. She looked at Illya little while longer and then made a decision in his behalf. She started the car and turned it back onto the street.

Illya looked at her but didn’t say anything.

Gaby drove back to her apartment, parked, and stepped out of the car. She was relieved that Illya got out too. He followed her to the front door and then inside. Gaby pushed him to sit on the couch. If it was only that he didn’t want to be alone, Gaby could cope with that. And if it was that, Gaby wasn’t going to make him be alone. It was nice to have company.

She went to the kitchen and started putting things on the counter: chopping board, potatoes, sharp knife. She made dinner and frowned. It didn’t feel good not knowing why Illya was the way he was today. It made her mind wander in sad places and wonder about all the bad things that could’ve happened. Maybe he was sick. Gaby peeked through the open door to the living-room. Illya didn’t look that sick. But that didn’t really mean anything.

The whole time they ate Gaby watched Illya from under her brows. He ate slowly, but ate anyway. He didn’t show any emotions, only ate the beef soup Gaby had made. He glanced at Gaby and lowered his eyes immediately when he saw her gaze. When they were finished Illya stood up to take his bowl to the sink.

“Let me do that,” Gaby said quickly and stood up. “You sit down.”

“I can carry my own dishes,” Illya assured her.

“You don’t have to,” Gaby said and tried to take the bowl from Illya. He held it tightly but eventually let it go. Gaby’s hand jerked when Illya let the bowl go, her fingers slipped and the bowl shattered against the floor.

“I am sorry,” Illya muttered.

“I’m the one who dropped it,” Gaby pointed out.

Illya kneeled down to collect the shards.

“Leave it, I will clean it,” Gaby said frustrated. She was anxious when she didn’t know what had happened and why Illya was gloomier than usual.  But Illya still gathered the shards and Gaby didn’t want him to do that, because for all she knew he could be dying. “Just leave it,” Gaby insisted. “I will sort it out. Get up!”

Illya got up and set the shards he had already gathered on the table. He didn’t want to bother Gaby any more he already had. “I will leave,” he said and left the kitchen.

Gaby huffed and shook her head. She decided to let Illya go but then immediately changed her mind. “No,” she said firmly and went to the front door and yanked Illya’s jacket from his hands. “You are not going anywhere,” she announced.

“I am bothering you,” Illya said callously and took back his jacket.

Gaby tried to rip the jacket from Illya and he fought back. “Give it to me,” Gaby grunted. She managed to get the jacket to herself and she threw it on the floor. Illya’s jaw tightened. “You are not bothering me,” she snapped. ”The fact that something is clearly wrong and I don’t know what is bothering you. Why can’t you just tell me? What has happened? Are you sick? Dying? I don’t know and it’s scaring me,” Gaby raged at him. ”You are going back to the couch,” she ordered and shoved Illya towards the living room, “and tell me what the hell is wrong with you. Or do like me to be upset?” she asked.

“No,” Illya muttered between his teeth. He had no choice but to back up when Gaby shoved him. Finally he collapsed onto the couch. He went back to staring at his hands like he had in the car. He could hear Gaby’s breath louder when she was still huffing a little. Only thing he could see from Gaby was her bent leg that was almost pressed against his thigh. Illya didn’t know what to say.

“Are you dying?” Gaby asked.

“No,” Illya said quietly. “I am fine.”

“Well, you are not,” Gaby huffed. “But I’m glad it’s not that.”

Illya glanced at her quickly and returned to stare his hands. He was happy that Gaby gave him time to think about what he wanted to say. She just sat and waited and was patient like she usually was. Illya felt like she was more patient sometimes than he deserved. Maybe her outburst was a long time coming. Finally Illya said out loud the thing that made everything so hard: “I am not used to speaking about my life.”

Gaby frowned, more sad than angry. “Doesn’t anybody ever ask?” she wondered.

”There has not been anybody to ask,” Illya said and shrugged his shoulders. “Mostly I have worked alone. And I don’t really have friends,” he said uneasily, like it was embarrassing even to think that a KGB operative would need something as futile as friends. “No one has really asked. And I haven’t told anything to anybody. And now it is weird.”

”I know,” Gaby said and let Illya be as he was. She wasn’t going to ask him to cheer up, she hated when people did that. Still Gaby set her hand on his thigh. She didn’t stroke it or anything, merely let it rest there and warm him. Perhaps that was comforting; at least he didn’t seem to mind it.

Illya looked at Gaby’s hand. ”Before everything was simple. I was with KGB. That was my life. It felt right. To be there, maybe die for a cause,” he told.

“And now?” Gaby asked.

“Now there is a contrast,” Illya sighed. ”Now I feel like in there I do not matter at all. No one matters. We are soldiers they sent to do their bidding and it doesn’t matter if we return or not,” he continued. “The things I do there are very different from the things here,” Illya muttered and faced Gaby. “But I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?” Gaby asked although she already knew why.

“I don’t want you to know,” Illya confessed and lowered his eyes again. “It is not nice things.”

Gaby nodded. “You don’t have to tell me. But you can if you ever want. Or need,” she promised.

“And it is not easy to go back there when there are people here asking how I am and being interested,” Illya muttered little embarrassed.

“I’m not going to apologize for caring,” Gaby declared. “If you were expecting that, then you are going to be expecting for a long time.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Illya assured her and looked at her again. “Believe me.” And then there was that little twitch on the corner of his mouth that Gaby had waited for. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with it.”

Gaby hummed quietly and her hand softly swiped Illya’s cheek and stopped there before she realized what she was doing. “You don’t have to do anything with it,” Gaby said. “You only have to be and let somebody care. I would say it’s really easy, but you are fighting so hard against it that maybe it isn’t,” she suspected and smiled.

Illya was sorry that he was making things hard for Gaby, but her smile caught on him.

Gaby looked at Illya’s face he had turned to her. She was glad that he was smiling, even if his smile was small and weary. He had dark shadows under his eyes. “You look tired,” Gaby sighed. She noticed her hand on Illya’s cheek and pulled it back.

“I am,” Illya admitted and looked suddenly exhausted. Like he had somehow managed to hide it from Gaby and now he let it show.

“Go lie down for a while,” Gaby suggested. “If not for you, then for pleasing me. Half an hour, if not more.”

“Fine,” Illya promised. “But only to please you.” He left Gaby and went to her bedroom. Illya had been in her apartment only once before, and never in her bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights; the light from the open door was enough to see. There was a quilted bedspread, her pajamas were thrown on a chair in the corner, a lonely cardigan was on the floor, and a dirty teacup sat on top of the dresser. Gaby was there even when she wasn’t. She had probably tried to throw the cardigan in the same chair as the pajamas, failed, and then left it there. She had set the cup on the dresser for a moment and then just forgot about it. Everything was so lively and cozy.

He lay down on Gaby’s bed. Her scent was stronger there than in the rest of the apartment. Illya liked to think that it was because she slept there and dreamt. And maybe her dreams soaked into the walls and left there little parts of her. He noticed a necklace hanging from the lamp on the bedside table. Illya remembered how his mother had hung her gold locket on her night lamp when she didn’t wear it. He reached out with his hand and let the thin chain run through his fingers. When he got to the end, his fingers felt the ring hanging from it. Illya swallowed and pulled his hand back to him. He didn’t have to touch more or look either. He knew that it was the ring he had given Gaby in Rome. And she was keeping it on her night lamp. It hung next to her when she slept and dreamt. Illya wondered did she sometimes dream about him. He sometimes dreamt about Gaby. He pushed those dreams away from his memories in the morning, but there they were, in his brain, tucked away, for only him to know.

Gaby was washing the dishes. Illya could hear the water splashing and the low clunks when the dishes hit against one another underwater. She was opening cupboards. Running water. Her footsteps on the floors. Gaby turned on the television and turned the volume down. Illya knew she did it because of him and somehow that little thing felt nice and warming. He closed his eyes and listened to the cozy sounds Gaby made, casual and so easy to listen.

Gaby stood up from the couch after half an hour and went to peek inside the bedroom. She was sure that Illya would be staring at the ceiling, but his eyes were closed. And after watching him for a while, Gaby realized that he actually was sleeping. Illya’s breaths were even and slow. Gaby went to get a crocheted blanket from the couch and covered Illya with it. She hesitated for a moment but then bent down and pressed her lips gently on the scar next to his eye. It wasn’t even a kiss; it was just a soft brush with her lips. Gaby backed out of the room and let Illya sleep in peace. She pulled the door closed, but not all the way. When she woke in the middle of the night a closed room made her anxious, she felt like there was no air to breathe. And now she left a crack for Illya. If he woke, he would see the light from the door crack and it would remind him that he wasn’t alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to MollokoPlus


End file.
